“My hero,” she says, clasping her hands together in a mock swoon. Her words cut like a knife, no joke.
I install the new lock with much less trouble, and try it out a few times, locking, unlocking, locking it again, rattling the doorknob, all the while listening to her monologue soundtrack. I got the deadbolt lock, God help her if I lose the keys. Or me, if I get stuck inside with her.
“Do I get a key?”
I don't dignify that with an answer.
“I'm bored,” she says in this high-pitched whiny voice. I mentally slap myself because I find it adorable. “Why won't you talk to me?”
“Because you're annoying and it's testing my patience.”
“Well, I’m going to keep talking anyway. What's the worst you could do? Tie me up and gag me?” My head snaps to her, and she smirks, knowing she's got me.
“Try some children’s books for a change,” I tell her, pretending nonchalance. My head is swimming with images of her, tied up, naked. This is how dangerous she is to me.
I make use of the fact I'm turned away from her and adjust my already tight jeans. I move for the door to get out before it's too late, but her hand lands on my forearm.
“Come back tonight,” she says. “I don't feel safe after this morning.”
I want to shake some sense into her. I'm not safe, stop making it out like I am. But I just nod instead, earning me a smile, and exit the room.
LEIGHTON
I can’t hide my happiness when Devon returns that evening, holding a pizza and a bottle of soda. He sets the food down on the table, telling me to come and eat. I walk over quickly, opening the box and pulling out a piece.
“Where were you all day?” I ask around a bite of pepperoni.
“Out,” he answers, standing and watching me intently instead of eating.
“Doing what?”
“Stuff,” he says, quirking an eyebrow.
“What kinda stuff?” I ask, licking the cheese off my fingers. When he doesn’t reply I look up into his green eyes, concealed by heavy lids. I know that look.
“What?” I ask, taking another slice.
“Hayley will be back in a few days,” he says, shifting on his feet.
“Okay,” I say, because I don't know what else to say. I’m pretty sure he’s insinuating that he’s not going to be around anymore.
“You know that I hate your family, right?” he asks, staring straight at me.
“You don’t hate me, Devon,” I tell him, knowing that it’s true. Devon's been good to me; he hasn’t hurt me once since I've been here. He gets up and starts pacing, running his hands through his inky black hair.
God, he's beautiful.
“No, I don’t hate you, Leighton,” he finally says. “But you should hate me. You will hate me.”
I look down at my piece of pizza, no longer feeling hungry. I put the slice in the box and wipe my hand on the napkin.
“I know George wanted to kill me,” I say. “And you saved me.”
His silence is answer enough.
“Can we just pretend? Just for one night?” I ask him. He turns to me as if he's going to cut me down, until he sees the look on my face. His expression softens, and he gives me a slight nod. He sits down next to me and picks up a slice of pizza. I watch as his teeth tear off a bite, and think there is seriously something wrong with me to be turned on by him right now.
We finish eating, and sit on the couch and watch some random TV movie in silence. Devon sips his drink, and I watch his throat as he swallows. My gaze roams down further, to his toned chest peeking out of his black V-neck shirt.
I want him.
Truth be told, it’s not like I’ve had any action since I’ve been here, nor for a while before I was brought here. And my BOB is safely tucked away under my bed at home, gathering dust. I slowly remove my thin sweater, leaving nothing but a tank top underneath. Devon glances away from the TV to watch me. Lust consumes me, making me feel bold. Invincible.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice huskier than usual.
“You said we'd pretend,” I say softly, moving closer to him.
“Leighton, fuck, I don’t think . . . ” His eyes are at the hem of my top, where my hands are.
“Don’t think, Devon,” I say, standing up and pulling it over my head, dropping it aside. I walk backwards to my bed and undo the clasp of my bra, letting it dangle on my finger and then fall to the ground. I take my sweatpants off, leaving me in nothing but my panties. When he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t tell me to stop, I sit down on the bed and watch him.
The heat in Devon’s gaze, the intensity in his expression makes me feel like I’m the sexiest girl in the world. He stands up slowly, and walks over to me, his eyes still connected with mine. He gets down on his knees, so his face is almost level with mine. I watch as he takes his fill of me, a soft curse escaping his lips as his gaze touches my breasts.
“I don’t want you,” he says hoarsely, but there’s no fight left in his voice. My breathing hitches as I wait for him to finally touch me.
I don’t dare speak. Putting my palm on his cheek, I decide to make the first move since he won’t. Bringing his face closer to my body, I gasp when his tongue finally peeps out and slowly traces over one nipple, and I know that he’s decided to give in. He pulls my nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, and then running his teeth over it. I squirm under his touch, wanting more.
His mouth releases its torturous hold on my breast and trails wet kisses up my chest, my shoulder and my neck. By the time he reaches my mouth, I can feel how damp my panties are, and my thighs are trembling. He swipes his tongue across my lips, begging entrance. He kisses me hungrily, delving into my mouth, tasting me. He pushes me back onto the bed with the force of his body, grinding his hips into mine. I feel his erection pressing into me, and it gets me even more excited. Grasping my wrists in his hand, Devon lifts my hands above my head and presses them into the mattress. His other hand traces from my temple, over my cheek and jawline, and finally rests on my neck. Pulling his mouth away, he rests his forehead against mine, his breathing as heavy as my own.
“I don’t fucking want you,” he says desperately.
“Devon,” I gasp out when he starts slowly moving against me, our clothes the only barrier between us. He instantly jumps away from me, his expression closing off. He throws a disgusted glance my way as he stands up and takes two steps back, leaving me bare and vulnerable.
Then he turns his back on me and leaves.
seven
DEVON
I swirl the amber liquid in the glass then raise it to my lips and down it. I pour another and repeat. I should slow down, but the oblivion this promises is too tempting.
“I knew you'd be back for me,” she tells me. I give her a lazy grin as she approaches.
“Took you long enough. And I'm here for me.”
Soraya nods in understanding. “That's okay, I'll take care of you.”
I pat the arm of the huge leather chair and she walks over and sits down next to me. I put my arm around her waist and she leans into my touch as I down another glass of whiskey.
I don't like whiskey, and that's why I drink it. There's never a risk I'll get drunk if that's my drink of choice, though tonight I'm not pacing myself very well.
Any kind of alcohol is welcome right now.
After my fifth glass, I decide it's enough. I get up and so does Soraya, taking my hand and leading me away. I wobble slightly, but I don't feel drunk. Actually, I love the buzz it's given me. She pulls on my hand, making me realize I've stopped in my tracks, why, I don't know.
“Come on, silly.” Her voice is the sweetest thing right now. And looking her over from behind, with her long hair, even if it's a shade lighter than I’d like, and her petite body, she's perfect. She'll be perfect.
We reach the door to one of the back rooms and she starts searching in her purse for something. I slam her against the door, and drown her surprised squeal with a demanding kiss. My hands on her thighs start exploring up, up under her dress until I reach the edge of her panties.